


Eighty-four, Twenty-eight, Twenty-three

by Eclectic_Goddess



Category: The Losers (2010)
Genre: Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 17:31:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1436779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eclectic_Goddess/pseuds/Eclectic_Goddess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He always expected to end up in one of these, but he didn’t think he’d be climbing in under his own power.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eighty-four, Twenty-eight, Twenty-three

**Author's Note:**

> Written in April, 2010. Previously posted on Livejournal.

The caskets are ready when they get to the warehouse, lids open, waiting to be filled. Caskets, not coffins, Jensen informs them.

“Coffins are six-sided or eight-sided, tapering at each end to be narrower at the head and foot than at the shoulder. Caskets are four-sided, with no tapering. They used to all be called coffins, but morticians in North America in the 1800s started calling them caskets because it was associated with jewelry boxes…Did you know that making a casket airtight actually speeds up the rate of decomposition? Even with embalming, the normal anaerobic bacteria that lives in human tissue causes decomposition. It just results in liquefaction instead of clean skeletonization…”

“Jensen,” Clay warns.

“Yeah, got it,” he replies breathlessly. “Shutting up.”

They’d known about this part, of course, but the sight of those five caskets is still jarring. Cougar crosses himself. Pooch keeps fingering the ring he wears around his neck. Jensen looks like he’s going to throw up. Clay glances at Roque to gage his reaction, but he’s staring hard at Aisha. There’s trouble there, but it’s trouble for another time.

“So, this is simple. The papers are in order. You’ll be added to a regular shipment of remains that crosses the border at Nogales, but these coffins…” Jensen makes a noise of argument, but says nothing. “…are flagged for special pick-up. I used the same code the C.I.A. uses when the bodies of overseas operatives who aren’t supposed to exist are returned to the country. Seemed fitting.”

Aisha smiles at Clay, but he doesn’t have it in him to smile back. He always expected to end up in one of these, but he didn’t think he’d be climbing in under his own power. Or climbing back out, for that matter.

“We should be no more than seven hours from when the truck leaves here until I can get you out on the other side of the border. The coffins have been modified so you’ll get plenty of air, but any other bodily functions that need to be dealt with are your problem. I don’t want to know.”

She looks around at them all, and they look back. It’s hard to tell if she’s trying to be funny. They aren’t amused.

“Finally, just to remind you…no cell phones, no wireless, no guns. No knives.” Aisha looks at Roque then, and Clay wishes she wouldn’t. “No big metal weapons of any kind. The code I used should tip off the border guards not to get too curious, but there’s still a chance that they’ll run the coffins through a scanner. We don’t need to see this whole operation busted before it even begins because one of you boys couldn’t let go of your favorite assault rifle.

“All clear? Ready?”

Pooch looks at Clay, and he nods. Taking a deep breath, Pooch goes to the nearest casket. He looks determined. Of all of them, Clay knows he has the most waiting for him back home. More than freedom or revenge…he has a future. He climbs in and shifts around to get comfortable. Clay sees him bring the ring up to his lips as he reaches for the lid.

Jensen doesn’t seem to be able to move. Cougar thumps him on the back and steers him toward the next casket. Jensen gets in carefully, as though he’s afraid to touch the sides. Cougar presses him into place with a hand on his chest and says something that makes Jensen laugh weakly. Cougar closes the lid for him.

When he turns, Clay sees that Cougar is no longer smiling. He glances between Clay and Aisha and lifts an eyebrow. Clay knows what he’s thinking, but it doesn’t matter. They have to trust her. They don’t have any other options.

With a tilt of his head, Cougar goes to the next casket. He slides in easier that either of the others, stretching out. Before pulling the lid shut, he tugs his hat down over his face.

Two caskets left. Roque says nothing as he steps into one. He doesn’t need to. He hates this plan. He thinks putting the team at Aisha’s mercy is too big a risk. Clay doesn’t agree, but he understands. There was a time when he and Roque had always been on the same page. They were the mission. But even Clay isn’t sure what the mission is anymore. Roque lets the casket lid drop harder than it needs to, and the dull bang echoes around the empty space.

The last casket is waiting for Clay. He turns to Aisha, who is watching him. There is nothing in her expression, nothing for him to read, nothing to tell him what she really wants.

Thinking of the weight of one little boy against his hip, Clay gets into his casket.

 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from the standard dimensions for a modern casket, and the research I did to confirm that also contributed to a Jensen ramble in the story.


End file.
